Robin Redbreast is a television play made as part of the BBC's Play for Today program, which from 1970 to 1984 broadcast a wide range of plays encompassing different genres including drama, fantasy, science fiction and horror. Written by novelist and playwright John Bowen, Robin Redbreast falls into the categories of fantasy and horror; despite its relative obscurity, it has a reputation amongst fans of British telefantasy as an example of "folk horror" that has been described as a precursor to The Wicker Man.
The story sees BBC script editor Norah Palmer feeling emotionally vulnerable after splitting up with her boyfriend and deciding to move to the rural village house that they bought together. As is often the case in fiction, the local villagers turn out to be not quite as welcoming as one might hope, and to have some decidedly odd customs. As she meets local stud Edgar, who is nicknamed Rob - short for Robin Redbreast - she finds herself being manipulated into having sex with him, getting pregnant, and discovering that leaving the village isn't as easy as she assumed.
Bowen's plot unfolds slowly but steadily, teasing out the story through an accumulation of seemingly random events that gradually coalesce into a sinister whole, with Norah discovering that Rob has been raised as a sacrificial lamb and that the locals have orchestrated her brief affair with him and subsequent pregnancy - by terrifying her with a bird dropped down her chimney and hiding her contraceptive diaphragm - so that they can raise her child as his successor. Whilst the villagers' pagan rituals are the stuff of pure fantasy, the psychological and emotional abuse inflicted on Norah- and by extension the physical violation resulting from the loss of control over her own body - is entirely plausible and provides the screenplay with a chilling sense of creeping paranoia. Rob's sacrifice takes place off-screen and is revealed to the audience purely by a scream, but it still has a real impact when coupled with Mr. Fisher's indirect explanation of the villagers' dark secret.
Robin Redbreast was original broadcast in colour, but survives only as a black and white telerecording remastered and released on home media by the British Film Institute. If anything, black and white only enhances its sinister atmosphere: television director James MacTaggart does a fine job, with some notably surreal camerawork such as when Norah first encounters an almost-naked Rob in the woods and her later nightmare. When a bird gets into Norah's house, MacTaggart provides a bird's-eye view, whilst a voice-over is used as Norah narrates her letter to Jake, documenting her failed attempts to leave; these camera and narrative techniques all contribute to the play's success.
The casting certainly is another important factor. Anna Cropper is well cast as Norah (Bowen wrote the part for her), looking rattled by the odd locals, especially Bernard Hepton's quietly menacing Mr. Fisher. Cropper conveys Norah's growing paranoia and fear entirely convincingly, and she's very naturalistic as a middle aged woman flattered and seduced by the attentions of an attractive younger man, which makes her perfect for the villagers' plans. Andrew Bradford makes Rob believable as an awkward and not very bright young man trapped by a dark destiny which he never fully seems to understand until it is far too late. Hepton meanwhile gives a superbly understated performance as Fisher, who is eccentric without being comical and softly-spoken but intimidating. Less understated is Freda Bamford as Mrs. Vigo, a wonderful character who would reappear (again played by Bamford) in Bowen's subsequent Play for Today, A Photograph.
Overall, Robin Redbreast is a fine vintage slice of British television horror that despite no longer surviving in its original colour format still manages to impress. The 2013 BFI DVD release of Robin Redbreast was extremely welcome: it made the play available to a whole new audience, and is essential viewing for all fans of British telefantasy and all fans of "folk horror". Now if only they would release A Photograph...
The story sees BBC script editor Norah Palmer feeling emotionally vulnerable after splitting up with her boyfriend and deciding to move to the rural village house that they bought together. As is often the case in fiction, the local villagers turn out to be not quite as welcoming as one might hope, and to have some decidedly odd customs. As she meets local stud Edgar, who is nicknamed Rob - short for Robin Redbreast - she finds herself being manipulated into having sex with him, getting pregnant, and discovering that leaving the village isn't as easy as she assumed.
Bowen's plot unfolds slowly but steadily, teasing out the story through an accumulation of seemingly random events that gradually coalesce into a sinister whole, with Norah discovering that Rob has been raised as a sacrificial lamb and that the locals have orchestrated her brief affair with him and subsequent pregnancy - by terrifying her with a bird dropped down her chimney and hiding her contraceptive diaphragm - so that they can raise her child as his successor. Whilst the villagers' pagan rituals are the stuff of pure fantasy, the psychological and emotional abuse inflicted on Norah- and by extension the physical violation resulting from the loss of control over her own body - is entirely plausible and provides the screenplay with a chilling sense of creeping paranoia. Rob's sacrifice takes place off-screen and is revealed to the audience purely by a scream, but it still has a real impact when coupled with Mr. Fisher's indirect explanation of the villagers' dark secret.
Robin Redbreast was original broadcast in colour, but survives only as a black and white telerecording remastered and released on home media by the British Film Institute. If anything, black and white only enhances its sinister atmosphere: television director James MacTaggart does a fine job, with some notably surreal camerawork such as when Norah first encounters an almost-naked Rob in the woods and her later nightmare. When a bird gets into Norah's house, MacTaggart provides a bird's-eye view, whilst a voice-over is used as Norah narrates her letter to Jake, documenting her failed attempts to leave; these camera and narrative techniques all contribute to the play's success.
The casting certainly is another important factor. Anna Cropper is well cast as Norah (Bowen wrote the part for her), looking rattled by the odd locals, especially Bernard Hepton's quietly menacing Mr. Fisher. Cropper conveys Norah's growing paranoia and fear entirely convincingly, and she's very naturalistic as a middle aged woman flattered and seduced by the attentions of an attractive younger man, which makes her perfect for the villagers' plans. Andrew Bradford makes Rob believable as an awkward and not very bright young man trapped by a dark destiny which he never fully seems to understand until it is far too late. Hepton meanwhile gives a superbly understated performance as Fisher, who is eccentric without being comical and softly-spoken but intimidating. Less understated is Freda Bamford as Mrs. Vigo, a wonderful character who would reappear (again played by Bamford) in Bowen's subsequent Play for Today, A Photograph.
Overall, Robin Redbreast is a fine vintage slice of British television horror that despite no longer surviving in its original colour format still manages to impress. The 2013 BFI DVD release of Robin Redbreast was extremely welcome: it made the play available to a whole new audience, and is essential viewing for all fans of British telefantasy and all fans of "folk horror". Now if only they would release A Photograph...
